


Just What I Needed

by lowfuellight



Category: One Direction
Genre: 1d break, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:01:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowfuellight/pseuds/lowfuellight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Neil Horan!" Niall turns around despite the mispronunciation, and is greeted by a long, wavering finger pointed defiantly in his face. He goes slightly cross-eyed trying to focus, but the finger soon drops to reveal the grinning gentleman it belongs to. "I'm kidding!" Nick falls forward, not waiting for an invitation, and throws an arm around Niall's shoulders for a lopsided hug. "I know you're Niall, and I love you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just What I Needed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [handcversbruise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/handcversbruise/gifts).



> this was meant to be a birthday present but it's literally 7 damn months late and i am so deeply sorry. but spence i love you and i hope u like this!
> 
> and honestly this pairing was something that hit us around christmas, a teeny ficlet on tumblr (that i cannot seem to find!!!) stole my heart and here we are  
> and the title is a song by the cars i was listening to at the moment im not good at titles waheyyyy!

"Neil Horan!" Niall turns around despite the mispronunciation, and is greeted by a long, wavering finger pointed defiantly in his face. He goes slightly cross-eyed trying to focus, but the finger soon drops to reveal the grinning gentleman it belongs to. "I'm kidding!" Nick falls forward, not waiting for an invitation, and throws an arm around Niall's shoulders for a lopsided hug. "I know you're Niall, and I love you."

"Nicholas Grimshaw!" Niall laughs, stumbling ever so slightly under the older man's weight. "Heard you were about here. Had a few, I see."

"If I have, it’s none of your business, _mum_." Nick boops Niall's nose on the last word, and Niall pats him heartily on the back so as to get him to detach.

They're in a lowly club in East London celebrating something to do with a perfume being released by someone or other. Not necessarily Niall's scene, but he's here with his mates, who were in town by chance and wanted somewhere 'vibin’' to spend their night out. After a few pubs and clubs, they’d ended up digging into Niall’s contacts for somewhere more ‘exclusive’. Niall had gathered quite a few invites in his inbox for this particular event, and seeing as it was nothing special like a birthday or a bachelor's party, he didn't see the trouble in bringing them out here. He wasn't mistaken in doing so, either. Half the attendees are strangers, the other half are people he's only met a couple of times, and nearly none of them have any idea of what they're celebrating.

"Hey, Nick," he speaks up, clearing his throat so as to be heard over the music. Nick raises an eyebrow as he sways on the spot, peculiarly coloured drink in hand. "D'you have any idea of what this is for?"

"Fuck no," Nick responds immediately, leaning back as he does so. "But the tunes are good." And at that, he starts to move his shoulders to the beat, and then his arms and legs follow suit. He backs into the crowd moving his fingers across his eyes in a poor recreation of the Pulp Fiction scene.

"He works at Radio 1," Niall explains to his mates. Bressie punches him in the arm.

"I know who Nick Grimshaw is, arsehole."

"Jeez, Bres-"

"Sorry,” Bressie huffs, bouncing on the spot. Niall raises an eyebrow. “Just got a bit excited."

"D'ya want me to get you his autograph?" Niall teases.

"Oh, fuck off."

"Neil!" Nick yells from the dance floor, now moving his hips in an extremely uncoordinated fashion. "Come dance!"

"Stop callin' me Neil!" Niall shouts back, leaning back against the bar with a laugh.

"Go dance with him, _Neil_ ," Bressie laughs. "Go dance with Nick Grimshaw from Radio 1."

"Maybe I will."

He doesn't. At least, not right away. Johnny spots Rita Ora and spends a decent amount of time trying to get amped up enough to talk to her. Niall and Bressie gladly join him in getting plastered in preparation for it, and soon enough the two of them are doing Irish jigs to Years & Years on the side of the dancefloor.

"This isn't helping, lads," Johnny pouts, folding his arms across his chest.

"She's a human, just like you and me," Bressie bargains, stopping his dancing all of a sudden. Niall laughs and stumbles when Bressie tugs him to a halt, too. "Just talk to the woman-"

"Where's a woman?" Nick asks from behind Niall, who jumps out of his skin.

"Jesus, Grimshaw!"

"Rita?" Nick booms, leaning over Niall's shoulder with an amused grin on his face. "You want to go chat with Rita?"

"Yes, Nick Grimshaw," Johnny nods. "Yes I do."

"Me and Niall'll get you over there."

"We will?"

"C'mon."

Nick pushes Niall from behind and grabs onto Johnny’s sleeve, leading them over to the table in question as Bressie shouts something about getting more drinks.

"Rita, darling!" Nick croons. Rita grins at him, raising a glass in greeting. "We've happened upon an exciting young person who'd like a chat."

"Oh, hello, Niall! I hadn't seen you! How's it been?"

"No, not Niall," Nick berates, slapping Niall's outstretched hand away, "Jimmy."

"John," he corrects, albeit looking slightly impressed that Nick's guess was a close one.

"Okay." Nick claps his hands together. "Me and Niall are dancing away now."

"Alright, Nick," Rita laughs. John looks absolutely terrified, but Niall shrugs helplessly as Nick drags him out to the dance floor, his moves having suffered considerably since a while ago.

It's hard not to laugh, with the way Nick's dancing, shoulder shimmies Harry would have admired back on the X Factor. And Nick had been right, before: they _are_ playing good tunes.

" _ELLIE_!" Niall shouts excitedly as a song starts up.

"ELLIIIIIEEE!" Nick agrees, and the two of them wave their arms around like apes whilst singing along to _On My Mind_ at the top of their lungs. Nick puts his arm around Niall's shoulder, and Niall puts his arm around Nick's waist, and they bounce enthusiastically until the song ends, sweaty and happy under the changing lights.

Niall's red in the face and sweaty as he excuses himself for a refill and to perhaps seek out Bressie. Nick follows him to the bar, which doesn't seem that strange. He's a laugh, Nick is, and they've never really hung out outside of work or Harry.

Nick orders for them, waving a hand and asking for something Niall doesn't quite catch, and Niall sees Bressie across the room doing shots with a group of strangers.

Their drinks arrive and Nick leans over, a toothy grin on his face.

"How's the break been, then? So far?" It's a much more coherent question than Niall had been expecting, and he blinks for a moment to place himself.

"Fucking weird, to tell you the truth," he says, hoarse voice matching Nick's. "Just got back to London last week. I've been out and about, and just spent some time with the family."

"Explains why you're more Irish than usual tonight, then."

"Oh, no, the Irish dancing really ain't that rare at all-"

"I meant your accent. Sound proper Irish at the moment, you do."

Niall raises his glass. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," Nick grins. "It's hot."

Niall blinks and averts his eyes to the mirror behind the bar. It's probably (definitely) the alcohol that gives him the courage to say, "Sorry, were you just hitting on me?"

Nick shrugs unapologetically. "I already told you I love you tonight," he says, "I don't really know what else there is for me to say."

"You're drunk," Niall laughs, bringing his cup up to swallow a decent few mouthfuls of whatever the fuck Nick ordered them. It’s much too sweet for Niall’s taste, but he gulps it down either way.

"So are you," Nick points out, except it doesn't seem as much as an observation as it is a suggestion. Niall barely registers him moving into his space until he's there, his hip knocking into Niall's, his shirtsleeve brushing on Niall's forearm.

Alright.

Nick's all bark and no bite, and Niall is very much aware of this. It's what Harry always says, mostly when Louis is in the room and looking murderous.

But it's hard to keep that in mind when Nick's staring at him like that, eyes dark in the murky club, and he has to swallow nervously before attempting to say words and let the bloke down easy. Because Niall is straight, alright, and maybe Nick just needs a quick reminder. He'll say, 'Rita's looking fit', and it'll all be swell.

"Niall!”

Johnny is Niall’s saviour, planting a firm hand on Niall’s arm and tugging him back and off-balance whilst rambling, “I want to leave. Niall, I never want to come to one of these things ever again. Drop me off at the Vibe in Mullingar, I don't give a fuck, just never let me speak to Rita Ora again." He registers Nick as an afterthought, Nick who hasn’t moved an inch from where he was, and Niall sighs apologetically.

"Well, that's me, then, I guess," Niall says, trying not to look as relieved as he feels. Nick nods, looking vaguely disinterested, like his mind has moved on from the situation already. Which is great. All bark and no bite. Niall had his stomach in knots over nothing. He waves, pulling out his wallet.

“You’re buying mine, too, popstar,” Nick tells him, and Niall laughs.

“Gladly.” He passes Nick twenty quid and pats him on the arm. “See you around, yeah?”

“Sure,” Nick agrees, squinting at the note in his hand. And that’s their goodbye, and Niall doesn’t reckon he’ll be seeing Nick around much at all. Meeting him here had been coincidence, and he’s not planning on attending any more events like this one soon as Bressie and Johnny have headed out.

Only he hears from Nick surprisingly soon, actually. The very next day.

Niall’s doing his shopping when he gets a text message from a number he doesn’t have saved in his contacts. All it says at first is,

_Ok if I post this?_

Niall doesn’t know what ‘this’ is, and figures it’s some management bod, so he puts his phone back in his pocket as he carries his basket around the remaining aisles, reminding himself to shop with his head and not his stomach. Not that _money_ is a problem, obviously, but his diet certainly is becoming difficult to uphold without tour life pushing him to keep in shape. Two guests, though… kind of warrants a bit of a splurge.

He’s in the street with one carrier bag more than he should have when he checks his messages again, to find that the mystery number has elaborated on their message.

_Nick, btw_

_Harry gave me ur number_

And underneath it is a file attached. Niall makes it to his front door before it’s loaded, and he opens it sat at his kitchen table feeling slightly weary.

It’s a video of him and Bressie dancing on the sidelines of a very poorly lit club. He grins at his screen, wondering exactly how long Nick had been standing there before he came to drag Johnny to his Rita Ora doom, and types out, ‘ _Go for it . Thanks for asking!’’_ before adding Grimshaw to his contacts. Nick’s reply comes a few minutes later, after Niall’s unpacked his shopping and Johnny has entered the room scratching at his crotch with all the class in the world.

 _Wouldn't want to risk the trial, mate x,_ it reads, followed by a link to a tweet. He’s tweeted about twenty seconds of it, seconds in which you can clearly pick Niall out between the purple lights, and captioned it with: _Ran into an irishman named neil throwing some shapes_

Niall plops down onto the sofa and pulls up response to Nick’s tweet: **_@grimmers:_ ** _that neil sure is a shite dancer_

Immediately his timeline is flooded with ‘I love you Niall’s and he smiles before sticking his phone into his pocket and turning on the TV.

A couple of weeks later, Niall is pretty proud of himself for being up before twelve. He’s not sure what happened in the past week, precisely, that saw his sleeping schedule get completely out of sync. It’s not like he’s been having wild nights on the town either, and perhaps that’s the problem. Since Bressie and Johnny left for Ireland, he’s been doing a whole lot of nothing. On demand and Sky Sports have become his closest allies, along with the sofa and take-away food. And it’s not as if he hadn’t needed this time out; three days into it he had no need to get going.

But today, the itch that’s slowly been creeping up on him since yesterday has him awake before noon and getting dressed straight after breakfast. And heck, he hasn’t heard from management in a blissful three weeks, but he’s almost relieved when his phone vibrates on the kitchen counter. He’d spent one of his eternal days off giving all his close friends and family personalized message tones, but management won the fart noise.

Apparently, they want him to go on Radio 1 with Nick Grimshaw to assure the fanbase that the band isn’t dead. On the one hand, it seems like an okay idea. On the other, he’s seen Louis a few times, but he’s out of the question, seeing as everything concerning him is toxic at the moment... He hasn’t heard pip from Harry in a little over a month, and Liam seems to have dropped off the face of the planet. Probably not the kind of reassuring update management has in mind for the show. And Niall is a _shit_ liar. He tells them he’ll think about it and sets the phone down, drumming his fingers on the counter.

Maybe, if he texts the lads now and they answer, that’ll be enough for a _white_ lie.

His phone buzzes again, this time a text message. It’s the default tone, which is suspicious, and he unlocks it curiously.

 _You still in london? Been talking with the powrs that b, theyre thinking about a quick chat with you_.

Niall realizes with a nervous flip that whoever it is hasn’t finished typing. He locks his phone quickly because that makes him anxious, and waits for the messages to appear on the lock screen. As they do, he slowly begins to get a good idea of who it is, exactly.

_A check-in_

_You definitely already know_

_Neither of us are in complete control of anything_

_It's all an illusion._

_We are all but pawns_

Niall reads all that in Nick's dry tone, and unlocks his phone in a hurry to stop Nick from going on any further, typing out a response that cuts the suspenseful dot dot dot window short.

 _Calm down, grimmy,_ he says first, then pauses to think. Ah. What the hell. _Seems like a good idea, i'm in !_

 

"So, Niall Horan of One Direction,” Nick grins, swerving his chair with his hips, elbows on the table and chin resting in his hand. “How's it going?"

Niall, for some reason, had sat down and immediately clung to the table. He had been fine greeting the bloke management sent, and Nick had come out of the booth to say hello and offer him coffee during a song. But as soon as he got the orders to enter the stuffy room his stomach had curled in on itself and his palms had grown sweaty. The headphones seem heavier than they look and Niall spent a good few seconds trying to remember how to sit in front of a microphone correctly. If Nick notices Niall’s grip on the table’s edge, it doesn’t show. Daisy, today’s co-host, does give Niall a once-over, but Niall reckons his voice is pretty fine when he nods and says, "It's going good, Nick."

Nick pats the table with a hand, and Niall eases up a little.

"How's the break, then? How's the freedom?"

"Pretty good, yeah.” Niall swallows and forces his posture to relax. “Spent a while with the family back at the start. Which was great, you know. Great to be involved in that everyday life, seeing everyone, helping out-"

"Being average.”

"Being average, yeah," Niall grins. He can do this.

"Got a job at ASDAs-" Daisy jokes, and Niall waves his hand at her.

"Alright, I have _no idea_ where that rumour came from."

"A lot of people believed it!” Daisy squeaks, bouncing in her seat. “A lot of people _believed_ Niall Horan was spending his well-earned break from being a rockstar stocking shelves in ASDAs."

"Yeah, that was- that was pretty funny, really. Because, also, someone woulda recognized me. I mean, lack of evidence had to be enough to kill that one."

"Unless you'd grown a moustache," Nick offers.

"Unless I'd-" Niall laughs, and Nick leans into his microphone conspiratorially.

"Dear listeners, it's our duty to inform you that Niall Horan, member of boy band One Direction, has, in this break so far… grown a moustache.”

"Don't,” Niall giggles. “That would be horrendous. Wouldn't work, at all."

Nick taps his chin, thoughtful. “I don’t think any of you lads could pull it off, to be honest. No offense.”

“I don’t know. Liam’s had a moustache a couple of times. You know, walked into my hotel room half shaved, that kind of thing. Didn’t look half bad.”

“What?” Nick asks.

“D’you boys do that a lot?” Daisy prompts, a conniving grin on her lips. “Walk into each other’s hotel rooms half-shaved?”

Niall drops his head into his hands. “Oh my god.”

"Speaking of the boys, have you heard from them recently? The 1D lads?"

There it is.

Niall drops his hands from his face and shifts in his seat. "Oh, yeah,” he says, going for an easy, laidback tone. Nick’s eyebrows raise a little, but he can see Niall’s fingers tapping on the table. “I mean, the occasional text,” Niall continues, and Nick nods in encouragement as Daisy rests her chin on her hands. “Definitely. A check-in every so often. We’re really just enjoying our time off and away from each other, to be honest. Five years stuck to each other’s sides…”

“I can’t imagine being stuck with that lot for more than ten minutes,” Nick says, and Niall laughs.

“We’re all friends. There’s no hard feelings, nothing like that. I get the occasional joke text from Tommo, that kinda thing.”

"Mmm.” This is where Nick could push it. All he has to do is ask, _How is Tommo?_ and they could go on for ages. But he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “And now _you're_ here in London.”

Niall lets out a breath. “That I am.”

“As a lot of people know, you and I- we ran into each other the other night!"

Niall nods as Daisy straightens in her seat, a grin on her face. "We did, yeah,” he confirms. “Threw some shapes."

"Threw some shapes, yeah!"

Daisy nudges at Nick’s elbow and tilts her head. "Tell the listeners what you told me."

Nick looks at her, confused. "What did I tell you?"

"You know,” Daisy pushes, nodding towards Niall. For a beat, Nick’s face is blank. But then he claps and goes, “Oooh!” a little too loudly for Niall’s liking. "Oh, yeah,” he says, starting to laugh. He turns to Niall, who’s quite lost on what’s going on, or why Daisy is looking so damn pleased with herself, tongue pushed up behind her teeth. “A few drinks in me, I _may_ have hit on you,” says Nick.

Niall blinks. Oh! Alright.

"You definitely did, yeah," he laughs, and Nick claps his hands together.

"But, our Horan was an absolute gentleman."

"Of course he was,” Daisy hums, and Niall can feel his face start to heat up.

Nick gives someone behind the glass a thumbs up, then says, without missing a beat, “ _And_ seeing as I’m an absolute gentleman, also-” (Daisy snorts) “- shut up - I’m letting Niall here choose a song before he leaves us this morning. What are we playing, Niall from One Direction?”

Niall had come here with a few ideas for songs because he knew how the show worked. But as Nick watches him expectantly, a grin on his face, he forgets pretty much all of them and hears himself say, “How about _On My Mind_ , by our friend Ellie?”

Nick’s eyebrows raise in surprise, then he chortles, “Excellent choice, oh my god.”

“Is there an inside joke happening here I should know about?” Daisy inquires, and Nick shakes his head before announcing, “You’re listening to Radio 1 and here is Ellie Goulding with _On My Mind_ , as requested by Niall, here. Great having you.”

“Great being here,” Niall laughs, just as the song starts trickling through his headphones.

“ELLIE!!!” Nick shouts happily.

“Ellie!!” Niall joins in, and they’re both laughing as Daisy gives them looks.

“Next time you two go out, I want an invite,” she tells the boys as the three of them take off their headphones, Niall leaving his on the table.

“Sure, Daze, next time we randomly happen upon each other at an obscure nightclub we’ll be sure to warn you beforehand.”

“Dick.”

“Hey, you two wanna head out after the show? Go for a pint?” He turns to Niall. “We’re off in twenty.”

Niall opens his mouth to say, _Sure,_ but Daisy pouts. “I’m meeting with mates across town,” she laments, and Niall falters a little. He must look worried, because Nick quickly says, "Don't worry about it, kiddo. I'm not going to come onto you again. Unless you get me drunk. No promises, then. I’m a flirty drunk."

“You’re a flirty _everything_ ,” Niall says, not fooled for a moment. Nick just grins, and that’s that.

Niall waits in the break room for Daisy and Nick to finish their show, listening to the two of them through the room’s speakers, well aware that these twenty minutes are allowing the local fans to gather around the front door downstairs. He distracts himself from that thought - and only that thought, there are absolutely no other thoughts going through his mind, certainly none about how he’s gonna be alone with Nick Grimshaw and pints, because that’s just fine - with his phone, scrolling through twitter and coming across a few fans enthusing about his surprise appearance on the radio. There are a lot of people claiming that he and Nick are in love and dating, but that doesn’t surprise him much. A tweet from Grimmy shows up talking about the honor it was having him on the show, and that’s when Niall knows he’s on his way out. He retweets it with a smiley face emoji and Nick walks into the breakroom, Daisy hurrying behind him, wrapping her scarf around her neck as she goes.

“Lovely seeing you, as always, Niall,” she says, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek on her way past. “Just remembered I left my present at home, gotta run! Ta!”

“See ya, Daze,” Nick calls after her, and she waves before slipping out the door, phone to her cheek.

“Bye,” Niall adds, waving goodbye to the swinging door.

And then there were two.

“Alright, mate?” Nick asks, shrugging on his coat. “Still up for it?”

“Yeah, man.”

Nick proposes he drive them to the pub he has in mind, because although it’s only a few blocks away, he predicts (and correctly) that there’s a decent group of Niall fans hanging outside the main entrance. His car’s in the underground car park and they drive out round back where the more astute fans have positioned themselves. Nick pulls over for a moment so Niall can get a few photos in seeing as there aren’t many of them - only four or five - and a couple actually ask for Nick to be in the photo too, which does wonders to his ego. They laugh a bit and Niall greets Allison, one of the fan’s friends, through an iPhone camera, and then they’re off.

The drive is only about 3 minutes, but Nick fiddles with his ipod as he drives, asking him if he’s heard so and so band yet, to which Niall replies with a laugh,  "Are you _always_ on?"

“Alright, fuck off,” Nick says, dropping his hand and leaving the radio on, but he’s smiling.

He parks in some back alley only residents must know about, and leads Niall to a dingy looking local with stained glass windows and a broken sign, skipping a few steps ahead to hold the door open for him.

"An absolute shithole,” he announces loudly and tactlessly the moment Niall steps inside, “but I prefer it to the snooty pubs around here, and Joe leaves you folk alone."

It’s unsurprisingly empty for a Tuesday morning, although it might as well be night due to the low lighting and the scarce amount of sunlight that makes it through the thick windows. A lot of the wood - belonging to tables, chairs and floorboards - is scratched and chipped, but that just gives it the aura of something that’s been lived in, which ain’t too bad. Niall raises an eyebrow as he follows Nick past the bar and towards the circular booths in the back, offering the barman a quick wave. "Us folk?"

" _Famous_ folk," Nick says, turning and doing jazz hands. He then drops his coat into one of the booths with a flourish and Niall, a bit disoriented, starts to take off his own jacket. “Take a seat, I’ll get the drinks.”

“Ta, mate,” Niall says, slipping into the booth and putting his hands in his lap as he waits. He thinks quickly of texting Harry, something along the lines of, _You’ll never guess who I’m with_ , or _Watch out, your favourite radio host may have a new favourite member_. But Nick comes back quickly enough seeing as the place is near enough empty, and Harry’s probably busy doing whatever the fuck he’s doing these days anyway.

“Not too close with the lads then, lately?” Nick asks the moment he sits down across from him, and Niall almost drops his pint.

“How’d-?”

“The interview,” Nick reminds him, and Niall relaxes. He _can’t_ read minds. That’s comforting. “You’re a _shit_ liar.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“No, you didn’t,” Nick agrees, gulping down a decent lot of his pint. Niall taps on his own glass, then joins him. “You probably should have, though,” Nick confides, smacking his lips. “Just an observation.”

“Like you said,” Niall shrugs. “I’m a shit liar.”

He should have lied, if anything just a bit. That’s what management had been wanting him to do, although they hadn’t said so in so many words, or at least, not as frankly as Nick had. But he’s kind of (very) tired of all that, and he had decided before the break that these months off would be as relaxed as he could get them to be. Lying was for when they had something to promote, or at least, that’s what the other lads were better at. Liam, above the rest of them.

Nick is regarding him curiously, but he doesn’t say anything else on the matter. Instead, he asks Niall about Ireland and gossips quite happily about a few of the celebs he’s had on the show recently. Niall fetches them a second round and takes his time at the bar to muse quietly about what a good time he’s having, and how easy Nick is to talk to. Yeah, it’s sort of the guy’s job and all, but it’s still a lot of fun. Nick’s on his phone when he returns, but he drops it and rubs his hands together when Niall sets the glass down on the table.

“Honestly, I think we should make a tradition out of you buying me drinks. It’s not like you need all that money, and I _do_ need drinks, pretty regularly.”

Niall laughs at that, head a little warm already, and says, “Sure, _that’s_ how it starts. But in no time I’ll be taking you out to three-course meals and movie premieres, too.”

Nick sets his drink down on the table, his voice going hilariously high. “Are you accusing me of being a _golddigger_ , Niall Horan?”

“I’d never do such a thing.”

“No, never. You’re much too polite.”

“Some might say I’m a gentleman,” Niall grins, feeling brave.

Nick rolls his eyes but smiles anyway. He brings his pint to his lips and Niall almost chokes on his own when he feels something nudge at his ankle. He doesn’t, though, quite miraculously, and swallows, his stomach jolting when the look on Nick’s face tells him that it wasn’t an accident.

"Thought you weren't gonna hit on me."

Nick’s shoulders slump and he leans back in his seat, his boot still between Niall’s ankles. "I wasn't. But, and correct me if I'm wrong, because it's been known to happen-"

"You've been known to be wrong?" Niall laughs, perhaps a tad bit nervously.

"There are myths. Legends," Nick waves a hand. "But…” He fixes Niall with a look. “I think you want me to."

The booth gets very hot, all of a sudden. Hell, the whole pub does. Niall licks his lips and looks to the side, shifting in his seat. When he looks back, Nick has managed to scoot a little closer to him - not too close, but close enough so that their knees are touching and his hand is resting dangerously close to Niall's on the sticky table. Yup, it's definitely warm in here.

"You do, do you?" Niall manages. Only his voice squeaks a little. And holy fuck.

The look on Nick's face is victorious.

"I've never kissed a bloke before."

Niall’s not sure why he says it. His ears heat up the second the words are out of his mouth. Fuck, they must be scorching red. They certainly feel it. And what the fuck did he say that for?

Nick raises an eyebrow. "Me and Harry are friends, you know. He's told me things."

"Oh, the thing with Liam? That didn't count. He kinda just... planted one on me and fucked off."

Nick raises his eyebrows. " _Things_ , Niall."

"Oh. You mean with Zayn."

"If I keep raising a suggestive eyebrow are you going to end up spilling all your secrets? _Zayn_?"

"Sure. Who wouldn't snog Zayn?" Niall murmurs, quickly taking a generous gulp of beer to calm his nerves.

Nick nods, considering. "Fair enough."

"But that was ages ago. He was high as a kite and I was no better. Can hardly remember it." Except he can. Vague details, like the scratch of Zayn's stubble on his skin, and the fact he'd had to wank it off the next morning, beetroot red with shame the for rest of that day.

"Hey. Quit shaking, you're like a nervous chihuahua."

"Can't help it," Niall says, sounding a bit hysterical to his own ears.

"I'll back off, if you want. We'll talk about something else. Or we could leave. To our individual homes."

Niall considers. Shakes his head ever so slightly. Nick relaxes.

"If it's the snogging you're worried about, it's easy."

Niall licks his lips without thinking. Then he rewinds the conversation. "What… What did Harry tell you?"

"That he got you on spin the bottle once."

"Fuck, I'd forgotten that!"

"So you've snogged each one of your bandmates, is what I’ve just learnt."

"Not Louis," Niall says, because he's fairly sure about that.

"Why not Louis? He'd be my first pick. If I were you, I mean."

"What about if you were you?"

Nick slides even closer. His hand is on Niall's knee. It burns.

"Why're you- why are you doing this?"

"Told you that other night, didn't I?” Nick shrugs. “love you. Not in love with you, calm your tits. But I wouldn't say no to a snog."

Niall lets out a breathy giggle. This is so obscure.

"Those- with the lads. They don't really count,” Niall clarifies. “They're kind of me brothers, you know?"

"Oh, spare me the one band, one dream bullshit."

"It's the truth!"

"And it's a truly beautiful story. Save Zayn, probably."

Niall rolls his eyes.

"So, let's say, just for the sake of it, that you haven't ever snogged a bloke. Is it something you'd be interested in doing?"

“Uh… Maybe. Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Yes.”

“Alright.”

Nick’s palm on Niall’s knee feels hot, almost flammable. He certainly doesn’t imagine it moving ever so slightly up his leg, but he can’t find it in him to protest, because Nick’s face has also gotten closer to his own, so close Niall can only focus on one part of it. He focuses on Nick’s nose - imperfect, the pores of it - as his own heartbeat quickens. Niall can feel the heat of him, Nick’s breath tickles his face. It smells like beer.

Pulse thick in his ears, Niall blinks, once, twice, thinks, _fuck it_ , and closes the gap  between them himself.

Nick knows what he's doing. That's the first thing that crosses Niall's mind.

"You are… incredibly good at that," Niall breathes when Nick pulls back, a questioning look in his eyes that soon vanishes to be replaced by a mischievous glint.

"Good at quite a few things, if I'm honest."

Shit.

Niall’s face is on fire when he kisses him and this time, it feels less foreign. They’re both clean shaven, this isn’t like kissing Zayn, there’s no burn of stubble - but it’s not like kissing girls, either. Maybe it’s just like kissing Nick.

Christ. This is not what he set out to do today.

(Or maybe it was.)

But he won’t think about that.

Nick’s hand that isn’t on the inside of Niall’s thigh is on Niall’s neck, a calloused thumb runs along Niall’s jaw. Niall mimics him, if only because he needs to do something with his hands, which have been growing increasingly sweaty in his lap. He shifts closer to him, one hand placed awkwardly on the older man’s bicep, the other one on Nick’s cheek, then the nape of his neck, feeling the hair there. He would feel weird about it, but Nick doesn’t seem deterred at all, changing angles to kiss Niall deeper. Niall closes his eyes to focus on matching his enthusiasm as he kisses him back, refusing to be inexperienced or virginal - not that Nick would actually tease him about his technique, but because he wants to surprise him. And it’s…  this… It’s not unpleasant.

(Of course it isn’t.)

In fact, it’s extremely pleasant.

The drag of Nick’s tongue, the feel of his lips, the heat of his mouth… there’s something inherently Nick about this whole situation, not that Niall’s had much of an acquaintanceship with the man. But he can feel his teeth, the press of his nose, the twist of his lips as he grins like he knows exactly how good he is. Niall’s head is spinning, and he knows it’s only partly due to the pints.

Just as Niall decides that he could very fairly settle in to do this for quite a generous amount of time, Nick pulls off and away. Niall opens his eyes and receives one last kiss, quick and dirty, before Nick leans back and shifts to his initial seat, falling against the cushioned booth. Eyes locked on Niall’s, he wipes his mouth with his sleeve to reveal a filthy grin that Christ, that shouldn’t be that hot, but-

“Thoughts?”

Niall struggles to find his voice for a few seconds, a few seconds during which the grin on Nick’s face shows that he doesn’t much need a reply, then jumpstarts back into coherence. Sort of.

“Uh… Yeah,” he says, fumbling for his drink and laughing out of nowhere. It just bursts out of his chest, small and bewildered.

“Yeah?” Nick repeats, reaching out for his near empty pint. His long fingers momentarily have all of Niall’s attention, for whatever reason, but he soon manages to say,  “Can we… Do it again some time?”

Nick smiles, then knocks Niall’s ankles with his own under the table, which makes Niall smile, too.

“How much longer you in London for?”

This is bizarre.

“Couple- couple weeks, yeah.”

“Well, you’ve got my number.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

And as Niall waits for Nick to return with another round, all he can think is that if (when) he manages to get back in touch with the boys, they’re going to lose their fucking shit.

 


End file.
